


new normal

by fallingthorns



Series: nature of the spine [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Established Relationship, Injury Recovery, M/M, Married Life, Physical Disability, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24483190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingthorns/pseuds/fallingthorns
Summary: Five years post-clown, and Eddie has a new normal. There's a wheelchair next to the bed and a Richie by his side.---Post-canon think piece where Eddie loves Richie and adjusts to his new life.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: nature of the spine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770034
Comments: 29
Kudos: 286





	new normal

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by a convo I had with AJ on twitter about Eddie having sustained a spinal cord injury in canon that Got Me Thinking. It is really just a short think piece about Eddie living with a disability and loving Richie.
> 
> In this fic, Eddie survived (obviously) but sustained a complete spinal cord injury. His legs do not work without braces, and it is usually easier and more energy-conserving for him to move around while in a wheelchair.

_2021_

Five years post-clown, and Eddie has a new normal.

Eddie wakes up with a start, gasping for breath and staring at the ceiling above his head. He blinks and brings his hand up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, orienting himself to his bedroom and the overwhelming darkness.

Eddie glances at the clock on the side of his nightstand. 3:30 AM. With a sigh, Eddie resigns himself to the fact that he is now awake and will probably not be able to fall back asleep. He rolls onto his side and slowly pushes himself up into a sitting position with his arms, trying not to groan out load so that he doesn’t wake Richie.

Richie.

Eddie glances over at Richie, watching as he sleeps peacefully on his side of the bed. His eyelashes are spread across his cheeks, and Eddie can just hear his little puff of breath with every exhale. Richie always denies that he snores, and Eddie never brings it up more than necessary because the sound of Richie breathing next to him at night has become a comfort for him, a white noise in his sleep and when it’s gone, it’s too silent.

Eddie grabs his legs and swings them over the edge of the bed, pausing for a moment as he gets his feet into position on the floor. He reaches forward and puts his hand on his wheelchair, swinging his bottom over until he’s seated in the chair. He’s used to this by now – many nights of him silently trying to transfer to his chair without waking Richie and he is almost a professional at this point. He slowly wheels himself out of the bedroom, being sure to clear the doorway so that he doesn’t knock into the walls and wake Richie up.

The living room is only a short distance away. While Eddie had initially resisted, Richie was insistent on purchasing a new house with accessible entrances, no stairs, and a convenient layout for a wheelchair.

“It’s purely selfish, Eds,” Richie had said as he showed Eddie the house he found on Zillow. “These old knees won’t be able to do stairs for much longer.”

Eddie had relented, knowing that it would be easier for them both in the long run. At the time, he didn’t think twice about the fact that his best friend Richie was buying a house for the both of them.

Best friend had turned into boyfriend had turned into fiancé and finally, had turned into husband, and Richie and Eddie were still living in the same house five years later.

Eddie parks his chair next to the couch and transfers over, landing on the cushions with a flop and a sigh. He reaches for the remote, mutes the TV, and searches for something he can comfortably watch without the sound.

Time passes, as it always does.

Eddie thinks he must have dozed off, because the next time he opens his eyes, it’s light outside and Richie is next to him on the couch, curled into his side.

“Mmph,” Eddie groans, rubbing his eyes.

Richie’s eyes slowly open, smiling when he sees that Eddie is awake.

“Morning, Spagheds,” Richie says quietly with a yawn.

“Time s’it?” Eddie asks.

“Six. Woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep without you,” Richie replies, snuggling his face down into Eddie’s chest. “Missed you.”

“Mmm.”

Richie is always cuddly in the mornings. All day long he jokes and laughs and makes Eddie feel loved, feel _whole_ , and Richie takes making Eddie smile and laugh and feel happy seriously, as if it’s his second job. But in the morning, Richie is sleepy and quiet and vulnerable. He lets his walls down and Eddie always remembers that while he needs Richie always, both physically and emotionally, Richie also needs him.

Eddie buries his hand in Richie’s hair and begins gently scratching at his head. Richie melts even further into Eddie’s chest, sighing and rubbing Eddie’s hip with his hand. Eddie feels himself starting to drift off again, his head lolling to the side as Richie’s breathing evens out.

They wake up in the same position two hours later. Richie yawns dramatically, startling Eddie awake and sending the cat flying across the room. Eddie laughs, and Richie grins like he does every time he makes Eddie laugh.

“Ugh,” Eddie says as he stretches his arms up over his head. “I never remember that sleeping on the couch leaves me stiff as fuck.”

Richie snorts and presses a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. “We aren’t as young as we used to be, babe,” he says, standing up and stretching. Richie glances at Eddie’s chair and nods towards it. “Need help?”

Eddie shakes his head and places his hand on his chair before swinging into it. It had been difficult, in the beginning, establishing the boundaries for what Eddie needed help with versus what Richie wanted to help with. Richie wanted to help with _everything._ Eddie had almost died and couldn’t use his legs, _of course_ Richie had wanted to do whatever he could to make Eddie’s life easier.

Eddie couldn’t blame Richie, but he also needed to be independent with what he could. He admits he was too stubborn in the beginning, trying to do everything on his own and making his life harder. So they had argued and talked and gotten notes from Eddie’s physical therapist, and they made lists. Lists of things Eddie always needs help with, things he sometimes needs help with, things he never needs help with. Now, if Richie’s not sure, all he has to do is ask.

As Eddie rolls himself into the bedroom to change and get ready for the day, he listens to Richie humming in the kitchen as he starts to make them coffee and breakfast. Eddie changes his shirt, not wanting to deal with changing out of his pajama bottoms, brushes his teeth, and rolls back out into the kitchen.

“Pancakes?” Richie asks without even looking over at Eddie. “Blueberry?”

“Yes, please,” Eddie replies, rolling up behind Richie. He wraps his arms around Richie’s waist, pressing his face into Richie’s lower back. Richie loves when Eddie does this. He’ll tease Eddie, mock him for basically pressing his face into Richie’s ass (“It’s not your ass, dickwad, it is right _above_ your ass), and will sometimes even purposefully wiggle his ass and laugh as Eddie starts to yell at him.

“I love you,” Eddie mumbles into his back. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Eddie wonders, sometimes, what he would do without Richie. He could live alone, he knows this, the doctors and physical therapists all told him repeatedly that many people with his level of injury are able to eventually live alone with some adaptations. But Richie makes him inexplicably happy. Even when he has nightmares and gets cramps in his legs, even when he wishes he could just hop up and run a marathon again. He would be fine without Richie, he knows this, but he wouldn’t be the same _._

“Love you too, Eds,” Richie says softly as he flips the pancakes. No comments about his ass this morning – Richie must be feeling just as needy as Eddie feels right now.

Eddie knows about Richie’s nightmares. He’s woken up to them on more than one occasion, turning in bed and grabbing Richie’s face, shushing him and petting his hair until he wakes up and calms back down. He’s heard from Richie and Bev and Bill and Ben, from all the Losers, how hard it was for Richie while Eddie was unconscious and then recovering in the hospital. He knows, even if he was more focused on living at the time, but he can’t even imagine how Richie felt at the time.

Eddie nuzzles Richie’s back one more time before giving Richie a loving pat on the ass, grinning when Richie wolf-whistles as he wheels towards the table. “Feeling frisky this morning?” Richie says with a grin, sliding a plate of pancakes towards Eddie.

“Nah,” Eddie says as he grabs the syrup. “Just taking inventory.”

“Of my ass?”

“Of course,” Eddie replies, “Have to make sure it’s still there under those pajamas that are three times your size.”

Richie snorts and laughs, and Eddie swears it’s the best sound in the world.

They eat and chat, talking about the coming week.

“What time is therapy tomorrow?” Richie asks around a mouthful of pancake.

“Ten. Want to come? Morgan’s adjusting my braces, might be good for you to see in case they get loose again.”

Richie nods, reaching across the table to take Eddie’s hand. “ ‘course,” he says. “Love to watch that 5-foot-nothing woman kick your ass.”

Eddie laughs and nods, because that is literally what his physical therapist does for his entire treatment once each week.

As Richie cleans the dishes, Eddie watches him with his chin resting in his hand. “Hey,” he says. “Can you help me with my exercises and stretches today?”

Richie sets the bowl he was washing down and turns to look at him. Eddie raises an eyebrow at him expectantly. Eddie doesn't always ask for help with his exercises; sometimes he likes to do them alone; sometimes he isn’t in the mood for Richie to see him like that. But today, he wants the help, wants to watch Richie as he watches him stretch, wants to see him grin when he gets a full view of Eddie’s ass in his workout shorts, of his biceps as he does his arm exercises.

“Eddie baby, you know I am always ready for the gun show.”

As Eddie rolls back into the bedroom to change, he grins as Richie runs ahead of him and stops him in his tracks before crouching down in front of him.

“Hey,” Richie says softly, now at eye level with Eddie. “I love you.”

Eddie’s heart swells every time Richie says it to him. They almost didn’t have this for so many reasons. Eddie smiles gently and leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Richie’s lips.

“I love you, too,” he says, bringing his hand to Richie’s face and stroking Richie’s cheek with his thumb. “And you know I hate when you wait until 9 AM to kiss me, asshole.”

Richie smiles and kisses him again, longer and deeper this time, his hands resting on Eddie’s upper thighs.

Eddie is okay with his new normal. As Richie kisses him, he doesn’t forget about his exercises; doesn’t forget about his physical therapy appointment tomorrow. He can hardly ever forget that he’s in a wheelchair and can only walk with two leg braces and usually only while in therapy.

But, as Richie kisses him, he thinks about how he almost didn't have this. He has Richie, he has the Losers, and he has a life he never could have imagined. It’s his life, his normal, and he has spent every day the past five years adjusting to it.

Would he change anything about it? Maybe. But as Richie kisses him, he knows he wouldn’t change this.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter @edskasper if you want to come say hi!


End file.
